Worked on the book today. Ate leftovers (honey mustard ham, garlic mashies, etc.). Watched a really bad movie. So what's new with you?
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Saturday, March 02, 2002Friday, March 01, 2002
Currently reading: The House With a Clock In Its Walls by John Bellairs
I've read this book many times, but now I'm reading it to Christina a chapter at a time as an occasional bedtime story. What can I say? She likes bedtime stories. Lewis Barnavelt, the ten-year-old hero of the story, is something of a nitwit, but it's engaging enough. Christina tells me that the next book for bedtime reading will be less "creepy." The Ill-Gotten Gains Dept. I went shopping this afternoon for a kitchen trash can with a sealing top. You know, one of those canister jobbies with the step pedal like in doctor's offices. The decent-sized ones were all ridiculously expensive, except for one 38-liter model that was marked $49.99. If you had told me ten years ago that not only would I pay $50 for a trash can but that I would find it a reasonable price, I would have told you that crack is a life-ruining substance and that discontinuing its use was in your best interests. But that was before I encountered the evil sugar ants that march along a trail from the light fixture to the kitchen trash in a disgusting display of arthropod tenaciousness. Hoping to stem the tide of tiny amber invaders, we have taken to sealing and sanitizing every possible source of sustenance. (The poison comes later, mark my words.) These canister trash cans are not cheap. The 40-liter one that I really wanted was marked $119.99, so discovering this extremely nice 38-liter chrome can with the proper sealing lid at $50 was a real find. I trundled it over to the register, where it rang up at $89.99. Fortunately, the girl at the register honored the price as marked once I pointed it out to her, and I walked out with my step can and my Oxo Good Grips potato masher, feeling as if I had gotten away with some petty crime. There's an illicit joy in taking advantage of some stocker's mistake, and I was riding high on the wave of a forty-buck discount. Pathetic, ain't it? The Lady Was Right The Lady (of The Lady and Sons restaurant in Savannah, discussed previously) gives some advice in her cookbook, and I think she may be on to something. Red potatoes are superior for many potato applications. Our country garlic mashies were heavenly. Here's the recipe (my own, since hers involves about a stick of butter and some white wine): 6 medium red potatoes 1 cup milk (we use 1%) 2 tablespoons garlic powder (all the fresh stuff had sprouted on me, else I would have used it) 1 tablespoon Butter Buds (or 2 tablespoons butter if you're not trying to avoid the stuff - you might want to use a little less milk if you use actual butter) Cut the potatoes, leaving the skins on, into quarters. Cook for about 20 minutes in boiling water until done. (You should be able to crush a piece easily.) Drain. In a mixing bowl, combine potatoes, Butter Buds/butter, and garlic powder. Mash away with your masher, adding milk as necessary to smooth things out. Serve promptly. If you're not a garlic fan, try some kosher salt, black pepper, and a bit of thyme or rosemary for flavor. Thursday, February 28, 2002
Tonight the movie night group watched 1941, Steven Spielberg's wretched attempt at comedy. Along the way, Spielberg kept reminding the audience of other, better films: Dumbo, White Christmas, even his own Jaws. And the actors he roped into this dreck! Ned Beatty, Christopher Lee, Robert Stack, Toshiro Mifune. It was not one of our better movie nights.
I'm having trouble thinking of anything to write about besides work and the weather. Now there's a sign that it's time to just post what ya got and get some sleep. Random Image for Today  As I mentioned earlier, our alternate route home from Hilton Head took us through some pretty funky little Florida towns. One of the more interesting sights along the way was this bovine fellow, who was sitting outside a sushi restaurant. I'm not even going to try to guess the connection. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to get the statue and the restaurant in the same shot from my vantage point in the passenger seat, so you'll just have to enjoy the cow (bull? ox?) by himself.
It's official. Reel Shame: Bad Movies and the Hollywood Stars Who Made Them will be published in September 2002 with ISBN 0-9718356-0-8.
Because everyone seems to enjoy these:
In my bookbag: Jump Start Your Book Sales Currently on the Tivo: The Stork Club and Invader Zim Just ripped to iTunes: Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back Soundtrack Wednesday, February 27, 2002
Tonight's dinner, something of a slam-dunk given zero preparation.
A ham steak, glazed with honey mustard (1/4 cup honey, 1/3 cup Gulden's spicy brown mustard), under the broiler for about ten minutes. Corn muffins and broccoli on the side. Christina was very appreciative, even though I made her brave the grocery store for some essentials while I cooked. I'm convinced that the exterminator for our apartment complex is psychically attuned to our kitchen sink. The day it is piled full of nasty dishes is exactly the day that we come home to find that little slip of paper: You were serviced today by the American Pest Control Service. Son of a bitch, every time! Based on the time-lapse portrait he gets from his twelve visits a year, the guy who sprays our apartment probably thinks we're the most slovenly people to walk the earth. I'm a little nervous about the whole people-in-our-place-while-we're-gone thing; it strikes me as the perfect opportunity to case a bunch of homes for burglary opportunities. With all the electronics around here, I'd imagine we're a tempting target. But it is an apartment complex with plenty of people around who know us, so I'm not that worried. Plenty of rich old folks in other neighborhoods with a lot more money and better stuff. Go rip off their home theaters, not mine. That "arctic front" has moved in, and the cats have invaded the bed, intent on leeching our body heat. Otis rarely sleeps in the bed with us, but on those extra cold nights it's a matter of kitty survival. Reel Shame We're tying up loose ends on the book. Chris Magyar and Amy M. really did a great job at catching our typos and polishing up our crappy sentences. Thanks, guys. The edits have been made to all four chapters and they've been forwarded on to Lisa, who will do the index while Scott and I work on the appendices. I'm going to register with Bowker any day now; it's just a matter of sitting down in front of the Mac with my ISBN log in hand. It's weird, I've put it off a couple of times just because I'm apprehensive: once we enter a formal Advance Book Info form, we're committed to getting this thing on shelves in September. Not that I don't think we can do it, but it's comforting to have the option open. Once the appendices are done (more proofreading, C&A!) and the index is in hand, we'll get some bound galleys printed up. These are advance copies of the book with plain covers to be sent out to critics, etc. with the understanding that it doesn't necessarily represent the final content. I don't know how well our book will be received by regular book editors, but we're going to send it out to all the cult movie mags we can find, etc. I'm confident we can get at least a mention or two from the cult movie media. Random Image for Today She's gonna kill me for posting this one, but here goes:
For those who were concerned, Otis is back in the house. He never goes far, just to the front patch of grass (I hesitate to call it a "lawn") to eat weeds and hunt the occasional lizard.
Bemusedly inspired by Amy's tale of horoscopes and sign confusion (when the moon is in the seventh house, and Jupiter aligns with Mars), I looked up my natal Aztec horoscope. Here's what I got. My comments are in italics. Daily Horoscope for 18 Sep 1972 The day is 6 Cipactli - Alligator The sign of Cipactli is the head of an Alligator who was supposed to be the Mother Earth, and therefore, fertility. (ulp! well, at least that matches my "Greek" horoscope sign, Virgo) The presiding deity is Tonacatecuhtli, Lord of Subsistence, a creator deity to whom we owe everything, because he is the provider of our food. (Well, they got that part right.) This day can be considered as a favourable day and is a very good day on which to be married or even make plans for matrimony. (Cool!) The week is 1 Cozcaquauhtli - Vulture The presiding deity is Xolotl, a mysterious deity who represents the darker side of the planet Venus. Just as Quetzalcoatl represents the brighter side of this planet, so Xolotl represents the opposite of the attributes given to him. Xolotl is therefore represented as symbolising ignorance (hey!) and deep unconscious thoughts, whilst Quetzalcoatl represents the wind of intelligence blowing through the mind. An uncertain week to define, being one of mystery, but all of the omens foretell a danger to mankind or everything that he regards as being sacred, possibly through his own ignorance. Stupid Aztecs. The only thing they ever got right was hot chocolate.
Christina wants me to write about Planet Otis, but I think that's just because she's pissed off at him right now. Little bugger went running out the door when she left for the grocery store. Never mind that it's 40º F and getting colder out there. I've been getting little arctic weather warnings all day in my e-mail. Cover the sensitive plants, and bring in the pets tonight.
Tuesday, February 26, 2002
Life on Planet Suzie
Speaking of New York, here's a plaque from one of the benches in Central Park. Every once in a while I'll remember it and think: Who the hell is Grandpa Cheese? Is he related to any of the McDonald-land characters?
Monday, February 25, 2002
Tonight's dinner was one of Christina's favorites, fried rice. Well, fried is overstating it a bit, since we use so little oil. It's more like skillet-heated rice with veggies and chicken.
3 - 4 cups cooked rice (usually leftover from a previous meal) 1.5 cups frozen peas & carrots 2 eggs (optional) 8 - 10 oz chicken (or tofu, if that's your thing), diced 2 tablespoons sesame oil (we like the lighter stuff as opposed to the strong, dark variety) 1 teaspoon mongolian fire oil (ahua! it's hot) half an onion (sweet onions are good with this recipe), chopped 2 green onions, chopped 3/4 cup soy sauce (or more to taste) 1 teaspoon ginger, ground (or fresh minced, if you have it) Thaw the peas and carrots in the microwave. About a minute on high should do it. In a large skillet over medium-high heat (about 350º F), cook the chicken first (before you dice it). If you like, drizzle a little of the fire oil over the chicken for flavor It should be done all the way through, since it won't receive much in the way of cooking once it's in the rice. Dice it and set it aside. If you're going to use eggs, cook them now. Just crack them onto the skillet and scramble them up -- no water or milk required. Set them aside as well. Give your skillet a quick spritz with some non-stick spray and put in the chopped onions. When they turn translucent and begin to brown, add the peas and carrots. Add ginger and a bit of the fire oil. Add about a third of the soy sauce. Stir constantly for about three minutes to keep things from getting too brown. Add rice, continue stirring. Add sesame oil and mix to coat the rice. After about three minutes, add the egg, followed by the soy sauce. (Or the other way around if you don't like the egg soaking up the soy.) Add the chicken. Cook for another 3-5 minutes until things look good and hot, then add the green onion (it cooks quickly, so it's the last thing to add) and cook for an additional minute. If your rice is leftover and a bit dry, you may want to add some water with the rice to rehydrate it. Not too much, though, because the soy sauce will provide some moisture as well. Makes 3-4 servings. I came up with this recipe after seeing it done at one of those goofy Japanese steakhouses. Christina's mom took us to one when we visited her in Nebraska. (It's the East out West, didn't you know?) Buckaroo Banzai I finally sat down and watched this all the way through; previous attempts resulted in boredom and sleep. It's a quirky little sci-fi film about an absurdly ideal hero (Buckaroo, who is a brilliant physicist, neurosurgeon, musician, etc etc) played by Peter Weller. Banzai stops an invasion by aliens from the "eighth dimension." It's a little too intentionally quirky and purposefully difficult to follow on the first viewing; the filmmakers want you to either be a part of their club or be totally lost. Neither happened for me, but I can see how it might inspire a cult following. Frankly, this has been done better in other cases (Terry Gilliam's Brazil, for example), and I just didn't think the movie was good enough to warrant a second viewing, let alone obsessive analysis. The most remarkable thing about it is the cast, with heavy hitters like Christopher Lloyd and John Lithgow sprinkled in with character actor faves like Vincent Schiavelli and Dan Hedaya. And no, I didn't think the fact that the evil "Red Lectroids" were disguised as pasty white humans, and the good "Black Lectroids" were disguised as Rastafarian humans was very funny at all. The bit about "John Bigboote" got old quick. Nope, I was not destined to be a BB fan. I'm sure many Stomp Tokyo readers will give little horrified gasps when they find out. Finished up the Transformers movie tonight while on the Healthwalker again, and was impressed that, among all the goofy made-for-the-movie faux '80s rock tunes, they also squeezed in Weird Al Yankovic's "Dare to be Stupid." Naturally, this came up when Eric Idle's character appeared. But here I am, talking about movies in my cooking blog. I'll have to cut that out. Yeah, right. Sunday, February 24, 2002
I've actually managed to stick to some of my resolutions from earlier in the month to simplify. The half.com items came down and were all sold in one auction. 33 VHS tapes went for $46, which is actually not bad in this time of DVDs. VHS is going out of style in a big way. Buh-bye.
Christina spent most of the day at work. I was impressed with the way she went in on the weekend to get things done (PhD, here we come!). Then she revealed it was because she had procrastinated earlier in the week. OK, so maybe she doesn't get the same level of brownie points, but she does get some credit for spending a good eleven hours at work on a Sunday. Her absence made it easy for me to be lazy, but I did manage to do a few things around the house. I packed up some auction goodies (finally got that double-album Lord of the Rings picture disk set out of the house), took care of a number of niggling web projects (there are so many more left to do, though), and burned some calories on the HealthWalker while watching Transformers: The Movie. I thought that the nostalgia value on this one was going to be pretty good, and I wasn't wrong, but I didn't expect my cynicism meter to kick into overdrive the way it did. First off, the actors in this one are ludicrously high-budget talent. Maybe they weren't at the time (1986), but they seem like high rollers to me now. If the words "Eric Idle as Wreck-Gar" don't start you laughing, something else will mere minutes later, I guarantee. Judd Nelson, Orson Welles, Robert Stack, and Leonard Nimoy round out the A-list talent, and they join cartoon regulars like Casey Kasem and Scatman Crothers as the robots-disguised-as-vehicles-and-whatever-else-appeals-to-kids. Cartoon voice legend Frank Welker is of course on hand to provide laser blasts and whatever else is required of a man who doesn't speak in cartoons, but only provides animal and machine noises. Seriously, look him up. He's huge in the cartoon biz, but I think the only dialogue he's ever done was as the voice of Scooby Doo. I'm probably wrong about that. Oh right, I was talking about cynicism. Well, about thirty minutes into the movie, a bunch of the Transformers "die." How robots can die of their injuries is beyond me (couldn't you just repair them?), but it happens, and they even turn monochrome when they croak, as if robots who are "dead" suddenly lose the ability to hold a coat of paint. They are replaced by newer, hipper versions of themselves with (get this) new voices. Two birds fall to the ground with one stone as a. the celebrity voices may now take over, leaving behind the familiar actors who provided the original robot voices for the TV series, and b. the toy makers are provided with a bunch of new robot designs to manufacture and sell to the voracious kiddie robot-collecting public. Brilliant marketing. Wedding Recap - let's wrap this puppy up Sunday morning was the hardest of all, since it meant the weekend was really coming to an end. Geoffrey and Jennifer were tied up at a schmancy brunch before they left on their honeymoon, so the rest of the family had a brunch of our own at the big beach house. It was mostly easy-cook stuff: bagels, eggs, Pillsbury cinnamon buns, and some Morningstar Farms meatless sausage patties. I'm actually quite fond of these last items; they're spicy enough to fake the saussage experience, although they're quite a bit better (I think) when pan-fried instead of microwaved. When asked about them by my Aunt Pam (a devout Atkins dieter, and I'll admit it works for her), Amy replied that they were "okay." My aunt wasn't fooled, and fired back, "But you're not running out to the grocery store for more." Since then I have learned that "okay" is Amy-speak for "rank." When we were done with breakfast and packed up, the whole group went for a walk on the beach. It was really nice, since it was a windy day and kind of overcast. The Palmetto Dunes beach was deserted except for us. The beach stretched out an impossibly long way to the water, where we took some pictures and generally enjoyed the company of friends and relatives for a little while longer. Then it was time to load into the cars and make our separate ways home, which was really difficult. It took about twenty minutes of Christina tugging at my arm and saying "Okay, you," before I walked out the door. Amy and Tanya drove alongside for a bit, during which we encountered a strange phenomenon. The license plate on Tanya's Saturn reads "503 YES," and for a short way they followed behind a car that had the plate "504 NEG." Christina was trying to figure out the relationship between the two cars and what the message might mean before she realized that it was Amy and Tanya in the rear car. A weird coincidence. A&T followed us down one highway and were supposed to turn down another, but they kept following us past their turn. After a few miles Christina rang them on the cell phone and asked what was up. I guess they were wrapped up in conversation, because they seemed surprised. Off they went at the next exit to turn around and head back for their proper connection. Our own journey ended about six hours later, after a stop in Brunswick, GA. I got a picture of myself in front of a statuary commemorating the invention of Brunswick stew. I would post it here, except that it doesn't look like I downloaded it to the iBook. The story of Brunswick stew is one I don't need to get into right now either. I'll save it for later this week. We also took a different route home, following a state highway out of Jacksonville and around Orlando, through some really interesting little Florida towns. I especially liked the sushi restaurant with the life-sized statue of a bull out front. Or was it an ox? So that's it, the story of the wedding weekend. By now you've seen the pictures, experienced the video, bought the lunchbox, eaten the Happy Meal. Thanks for your patience while I got it all down for posterity. As a reward, here's a picture of Otis in the bathtub, where he likes to hang out when we're not using it. 
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